


Newly Armored

by intheheart



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:36:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3643734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intheheart/pseuds/intheheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inquisitor Lavellan ordered new robes for Solas. In between the order and the delivery, Solas took her to Crestwood, removed her vallaslin, and broke her heart, ending the relationship. The Inquisitor decides to personally take the new robes to Solas once they arrive. Two POVs of the same scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Newly Armored

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write this after playing on a post-breakup save and making Solas new armor. It is the same scene from both of their perspectives. Very focused on their thoughts and feelings. My canon Inquisitor does have a first name, but my fics often use just "Lavellan" for simplicity. I may change this.

One of her best qualities has always been her resilience. Here, she is here, presenting him with new robes made from recently delivered high quality materials. She is dutiful when necessary, but she wears her pain raw now, refusing to push her feelings down into herself. But he knows she will endure. Lavellan has lived beyond the end of love before. So has Solas. The heart heals, albeit imperfectly, and with changes. No matter how they both felt, it had all been reckless, impulsive, selfish, and a hope he could scarcely afford. He does not doubt her resilience, proven over and over on this journey, keeping her alive several times against odds, and even breaking through the carefully-constructed ways he thought to ward himself, his inner self, from anyone who might affect his purpose. No, in that he had failed, and he too closely knew his own inner heaviness, mind laboring to take his own advice and turn the pain he knew acute in them both into action for greater purpose.

 

“How do you like them?” she jars him into the moment by asking about the robes, white, inlaid with fine blue silk brocade. Her bright lavender eyes meet his fleetingly, before she casts them downward at the desk, then settle on his necklace.

 

He allows himself a second to wonder about her thoughts before responding. His hand remains at his side, weighted with a trying refusal to touch her beautiful, unmarked face.

“I had them made last week with the new materials we received,” she says, maintaining a certain distance in her voice that he knows is difficult for her, painful, but she is trying. She is _accepting_.

 

“Far too regal for an apostate traveler. But....thank you, Inquisitor.” The return to formality was still dry coming out, but if her name passed his lips again, his resolve would be tested. For once, things were black and white. He could not falter.

 

She nods, turns, and walks toward the door. He notes the subtle fall of her head and barely perceptible sigh as she takes her first five steps.

 

                                                                                                                           ******

 

“No, Josie, I will make the delivery myself,” she says, picking up the package, to the ambassador's surprise. It has been days since their separate return from Crestwood, and the hushed voices had begun to get to her. Skyhold was not a stranger to gossip, but it seems that the whispers have been amplified in the past seven days. They saw her return, face unmarked, alone, and interested only in going to her quarters.

 

She makes her way through the hall to the rotunda. More have come today to seek her favor and discuss plans for Corypheus. They can all wait.

 

She closes the door behind her and steps into the room. The silence, even as Solas turns, is preferable to the inquisitive nonsense outside. She thinks about the peace she once found in this room, then unwraps the bundle. Inside are new robes for Solas, recently made when a new shipment of supplies had arrived at Skyhold. They are of fine quality, and she knows he'll dismiss that, but their cut, the deep blue silk brocade against the white would be both protective and bring out his eyes, brighten his face. The silver accents add more protection. It is finery, but more effective than the armor he has, and she holds it out to him anyway, pushing her heart, threatening to choke each word, down, even as she left her face true.

 

Her face always did show too much of her feelings. Even the distance she required as a clan hunter left her face once her work was done. She searches his face for a few seconds, yet the distance encountered nearly thwarts her calm. She was no closer to understanding how or why he had ended everything between them. That day, the fear seemed to be gone. Solas had a peace about him. Had he decided to leave her then? The present rushes back.

 

“How do you like them?” Lavellan asks, and his eyes turn to hers. She finds his necklace less painful to look at than the face she caressed, kissed softly by moonlight, and adored. Why hadn't she ever asked him about that necklace, anyway?

 

“I had them made last week with the new materials we received.” She tries to keep her breathing even and her voice from catching.

 

“Far too regal for an apostate traveler,” he says, dismissing their quality as she knew he would. “But....thank you, Inquisitor.” Inquisitor. She had a name to him once. He'd whisper it to her and quicken her heart warmly.

 

Lingering won't help. She turns and strides for the door, allowing herself to close her eyes for two seconds before making her way out.


End file.
